I remember that angry look in her eyes as she stood next to Jasper in that desert heat. The passion lit my heart anew, but her heart remained dead. She had given it to another.

Did she ever think of me during those years? Do I cross her mind now?

For the past ten years, I have crossed the world, searching for her. I refuse Aro's summons back to court, claiming a need for freedom and solace. He has relented for now, but I know he scarcely believed my words. Still, I search onward. I attempted to find Carlisle, hoping to gain answers. Having failed in that, I have set to tracking Jasper. I could never track Bella. She is as silent in this life as she had been in her human life. Nonetheless, I will spend my existence in search of her. Until every corner of this planet is discovered and recounted, I will search. I will search until they destroy me. And I will go to my death with her eyes in my mind.

I looked up from my diary as I felt my mother's thoughts. As she stood in the doorway to my room, her thoughts were soft and kind, albeit filled with worry. I had just returned from my most recent search, this one lasting over three months. She was worried that in searching for Bella, I would lose myself. In the back of her mind, buried from my gift, was the thought that I would find Bella and that one of her two sons would die in that encounter.

I smiled at her softly, hoping to ease her fears. Since the day we had found each other, I had left her only to satiate my need to search for Bella. After each excursion, though, I always came home to Esme. I doted on her, listened to her speak of her architectural plans, conversed with her about her likes and desires. I had hurt her so deeply when I left, and I made it up to her every day by being her quiet, contented son. Inside, I was still dying. I refused to let her see.

Over the years, it had become more and more difficult to hide our vampiric existence to the outside world. So many facets of humanity were now enveloped in technology that reacted specifically to the human physiology. We were too cold, too hard, for these devices to work. Without knowing what we were, humanity had forced us out of the civilized world. Esme continued to work as a free-lance architect, but she held her contacts at a distance, choosing to interact solely via video-intercom rather than risk exposure within the civilizations. Humanity was cruel to those who did not fit the norm.

One benefit to this shift in society was that I never again would be forced to endure high school. One of the downfalls to this shift was that I had no interaction with anyone outside of our small house. Esme remained as my only friend and family. Otherwise, I was alone in the world.

As Esme turned back into the main room, I looked down at my diary, my chronicle of the search. I had dozens of these journals, each recounting a different era in my past. But I had a new purpose when I started this one. I had a plan. One day, I would find Bella. One day, I would open my mind fully to her - allow her to see my most secret thoughts. I would hand this diary to her one day.

If I could find her, that was.

I wonder some days if I should just give up. What have I been chasing all these years? Is it just a dream? She is happy with Jasper. She must be. She knows I am still here, yet she has not looked for me once in these past ten years. Instead, she runs. Perhaps I am alone in my remembrance of our young love.

I sighed as I turned back to the mapscreen Esme had hung on my wall. The past few decades had seen several small civil wars and shifts in government control throughout the world, making it nearly impossible to keep track of leaders and boundary lines without employing technology. It was one such war that prevented me from continuing my search at this time. I had tracked Bella and Jasper to the former country of Russia, skirting the edge of several major civilizations as we ran. In the midst of the chase, several independent communes became angry with the local civilization. A fight broke out, and rather than risk injury and exposure, I abandoned my chase and fled home to Esme. I would be no good to Bella dead, and I was certain that Jasper had enough sense to flee the area as well. After all, he had managed to survive several wars in his life.

A small voice drew me out of my preoccupied memories. She was talking with my mother in a whispered tone, but I knew the sound of her mind perfectly.

Jane.

My eyes met hers as she approached the door to my room. I had never seen Jane without the cloak and dress that denoted her status with the guard. She was eternally beautiful, yes, but she seemed so tiny in her jeans. The semi-sheer top she wore cast her in a fuzzy glow as the sunlight from the window sparkled off her skin and reacted to the fabric. I caught my breath slightly, mostly because I was not expecting her to hunt me down. But also at the pure sight of her...

"Aro sent me."

Of course Aro had sent her. I had known for months that Aro missed me and wanted me home at his side. I just could not stomach the idea of returning to Volterra. Although I had not returned entirely to my vegetarian lifestyle, I had at least limited my intake of human blood. My eyes had lost their bright red tint, thanks in part to the pathetic deer Esme had led me to, but they were far from their former golden tint. Instead, they seemed to be brown, but one that contained far too much red to make humans comfortable. Not warm, chocolate brown, like...

"Are you coming home?"

Jane's words interrupted my thoughts, and I sought out her mind to understand the meaning of her question. Her thoughts indicated that she missed me, genuinely. I looked back to my diary, distracted by her thoughts and her soft whispers.

"I can't stand being there without you, even if you don't feel the same way toward me."

As she took a few steps forward, her hand reaching out for my face, the sincerity of her words hit me in force. My eyes closed as her finger brushed my cheek. I leaned into the strong warmth of her hand as I felt her lips feather against my face. Part of my mind screamed for me to stop her.

"Jane, please..."

She pressed her finger to my lips as she kissed my closed eyelids. I was fighting, but for a moment, I forgot what I was fighting for. Decades of memories flashed before Jane's mind, and I was consumed by the devotion she had for me. I didn't love her - I knew I didn't love her - but for a moment, it didn't matter. I was lost in the feeling of her lips on my eyes, my cheek, my neck. I forgot...

And as I forgot, I turned my face toward hers, eyes still closed. Our lips met in a passionate kiss that showed her desperation and my emptiness. I didn't fight it. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her down onto my lap as her hands worked their way through my hair. She hitched her legs up around my waist as my tongue gained entrance into her mouth. I sighed as I ran my hand under her shirt, careful to keep my eyes sealed. If I didn't look, maybe I could pretend a bit longer.

I found myself wrapping her legs around my waist as I stood from my chair. My body mutinied against my mind, and the shift in position thrust my throbbing cock into her clothed body. I felt her lips leave mine as she groaned loudly, biting down on my ear. I had to stop this and soon.

As she started clawing my shirt over my head, my thoughts merged with her feelings. I didn't know how it happened, but I found myself undressed and on the bed beneath her. Too quickly, I was thrusting into her. I opened my eyes when I heard her feral growls, saw her with her head thrown back in passion. Her eyes had rolled upward in her head. She ran her hands over her breast and down her stomach as I thrust deep into her hot core. I grabbed her hips, matching my body to her rhythm. I heard more than felt her release, and my body mechanically followed behind. Everything seemed bathed in a hazy light as I rolled to my side, spent.

As I looked across the bed to the small figure lying beside me, an evil grin spreading slowly across her features, I could not help but feel treacherous. I had promised the rest of my eternity to Bella, yet I had already betrayed her in the arms of a seductive vampire. My heart sunk as I withdrew rapidly from the bed, hastily pulling on my clothes as I moved toward the door.

To any human eye, my gait would have seemed perfect and serene. But to my eyes, I stumbled out of my room and into the main living area. I stumbled right into the horrified gaze of Esme. How could I have forgotten? Even if she were miles away, she would still have heard us. After all my now-hollow promises, after my years of searching, I threw it all away for...what?

I glanced behind me, seeing Jane's naked form wrapped in my bedsheet. Her red eyes glowed in the twilight, urging and tempting me to come back to her. For a moment, though, it wasn't her eyes that I saw. For a moment, those red eyes belonged on the face of another immortal.

I fled from the eyes that followed me. I ran from Esme's tormented thoughts. I ran from the fact that I had, once again, completely fucked up anything meaningful in my life. How could I return to Bella now? How could I ever look her in the face? Before, it had been different. Before, I had only dreamed of her existence. Those early women had replaced a hole that I felt deep within my being. But now that I knew, how could I ever beg for enough forgiveness? How could I ever be deemed worthy of my angel's grace?

Time passed without my realizing it. Days or weeks. Maybe months. It didn't matter. I found myself back in the throne room of Volterra. I saw myself kneeling at Aro's knee in the minds of every person in the room. That had been Jane's purpose in finding me, had it not? She had driven me back to Volterra, just as her master had wanted. I took my rightful place beside Aro, determined to rule with a sadistic hand. I would forget about Bella, forget about the happiness that had encased my life during the past ten years. I would forget that she was meant for me. I would forget that I had found my mother. I would forget the promises I made.

I looked down to the book in my lap, realizing that I had somehow carried this one item with me when I fled. No longer could the pages be filled with happy memories and remembrances. Instead, I would fill its pages with decades of death and remorse. Until my life ended, I would not forgive myself. I could never forgive.